Murrell dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder.
"You haven't been at Belle Plain, you say, but has any one seen you on the road this morning ?" "No one, John," cried Ware, panting between each word.

There was a moment's pause and Ware spoke again.

"What are they doing at Belle Plain ?" he demanded in a whisper.

Murrell's lips curled.
"I understand there is talk of suicide," he said.
"Good!" cried Ware.
"They are dragging the bayou down below the house.

It looks as though you were going to reap the rewards of the excellent management you have given her estate.